


(everyone knows) i'm in over my head

by goodmorningbeloved



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, hercules witnesses, john and alex are the greatest idiots in love, non-binary Lafayette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorningbeloved/pseuds/goodmorningbeloved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is on his proverbial front burner: Alexander’s eyes suddenly flashing with something like glee as his hands sneak somewhere downwards and John freezing and flinching all at once. This time, Hercules nudges the smaller boy right back (that better have been a <i>tickle</i>), and Newton’s third law dictates that John bounces soundly off of his side and further into the crook of Alexander’s form. John takes advantage of this position to stifle a snort — or a giggle? — into Alexander’s collar.</p><p>Hercules thinks, <i>Newton didn’t die for this.</i></p><p>-</p><p>Or, Hercules Mulligan has the great (mis)fortune of witnessing Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(everyone knows) i'm in over my head

i. 

This is a fact: they have known each other for years now. When Lafayette feels petty, they correct Hercules, _that is three-fourths of a fact_ , because they didn’t meet Alexander until their eighth year in school, but the point still stands because they have _known_ each other, capital-K-known, and Hercules isn’t about to trivialize all the times he has woken up with a stripe of John’s drool along his neck or Alexander’s socks stuffed up in his pillow because of semantics.

He knows them. They know him. Hercules could publish one of those children’s grammar books — _he knows them, they know him, they know each other_ — but that’s a dream on the back burner.

This is on his proverbial front burner: Alexander and John, framed by Lafayette and Hercules, practically tucked into each other. Hercules tears his eyes from Michael Fassbender onscreen to peer down at two of his best friends — _best friends_ , he reminds himself through gritted teeth as Alex does something to make John’s elbow snap back and lodge solidly into Hercules’s side. Hercules grunts. His sound of discomfort goes, apparently, unheard. Or ignored. Lafayette’s eyes are trained on the screen.

This is on his proverbial front burner: Alexander’s eyes suddenly flashing with something like glee as his hands sneak somewhere downwards and John freezing and flinching all at once. This time, Hercules nudges the smaller boy right back (that better have been a _tickle_ ), and Newton’s third law dictates that John bounces soundly off of his side and further into the crook of Alexander’s form. John takes advantage of this position to stifle a snort — or a giggle? — into Alexander’s collar.

Hercules thinks _, Newton didn’t die for this._

“Goodbye, old friend,” Michael Fassbender says on their laptop.

“Goodbye, Erik,” Lafayette whispers along with James McAvoy. 

“See that?” Alexander pipes up. “Lehnsherr tries to invoke old ties by using the phrase _old friend_ , but — John, _get_ —“

“But Xavier’s having _none_ of it,” John crows, tucking his knees up higher between him and Alexander out of spite. 

“Very eloquently put—“

Lafayette puts an end to the bickering with a sharp hushing, planting their socked feet firmly on the carpet and leaning forward in their seat. “ _Listen_.” Hercules really is trying, but the laptop’s volume didn’t go up too high in the first place. 

“There’s going to be a time, Hank, when we're all together,” James McAvoy says, beautifully.

“Beautiful,” Lafayette says, sagely.

So maybe Hercules is the only one who notices the _thing_ between them, literally. Maybe he’s the only one looking back on the past month or so and feeling like he’s missed something, because. Maybe—he has? Has he? Have Alexander and John always been comfortably sewn together by the sides? Have they always been comfortable— _cuddling_? No, wrong word, what was it—hugging, embracing, _molding_ together, Lord help him—

“Snuggling,” Lafayette finishes for him, later, when the movie is finished and John and Alexander have been assigned dish duty. (John has long since enlisted the three of them in a campaign against plastics. Whenever Hercules comments on the oddity of drinking beer from a ceramic mug, John whumps him up the head and reminds him of the animals.) 

Hercules blanches at the atrocity of that word, making a big show of scooting to the other side of the couch.

“Or,” they continue mildly, “how you say, _necking_.”

“You know damn well how to say necking, you—“

Lafayette rolls their eyes, though there’s an affectionate smile tugging at their lips. “There is a more pressing matter at hand, _mon chou_.” With that, their eyes drift languidly to the hallway that leads to the kitchen. 

Hercules is so relieved that he doesn’t even rebuke the French slip. “Tell me you saw it too. _Please_.”

“Saw it?” Lafayette scoffs. “I have _been_ seeing it.”

“Are you guys talking shit about us behind our backs?” John calls from the kitchen, right on cue. “If you are, let me tell you, it’s not working ‘cause if you take away this wall, we’re actually facing you, suckers—“

“We’ll do it right back,” Alexander chimes.

“What he said!”

“John, did you hear that yesterday, Laf turned on _Les Mis_ but fast-forwarded through the first fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, tell me more,” John shouts meaningfully.

“They’re idiots,” Hercules grumbles. “And we were all there yesterday, what the fuck.” 

“But they’re _our_ idiots,” Lafayette reminds him, reaching over to place their hand on top of Hercules’s. “We must do something—for their sakes, if not our own.”

Hercules’s taps a finger under Lafayette’s hand. “We’re going to encourage them to be more…” He trails off, pauses, contemplates. “ _More_?”

Lafayette breathes out a long-suffering sigh and nods. “Human happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected.”

Whatever that means.

 

 

ii. 

Maybe Hercules should have asked for a clarification, because not even a full twelve hours later, he is without a plan and, more importantly, without a blindfold.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ roast him,” John says—no, prophesizes.

“Gonna roast him,” Alexander babbles. “Gonna— Fuck, did I leave my notecards—“

“In your bag, I put them in your bag.” John claps Alexander’s satchel heavily, once, twice. Alexander hauls him in with a firm hand on the back of his neck, like it’s a perfectly appropriate response.

Hercules watches. He and Lafayette have already wished Alexander good luck before John came stumbling down their apartment building’s steps with a hasty, “Wait up, I’m here!” Hercules doesn’t know about Lafayette, but every time, he wonders if he’s not being enthusiastic enough before Alexander’s debate competitions. Recently, he’s been contemplating the idea that maybe John is just being too enthusiastic, but it’s hard _not_ to feel inadequate when John treats Alexander’s departure like he’s going off to war.

“Gets his adrenaline up,” John tried to explain to him once. “I mean, it’s six in the morning! Who decided that debates should happen at six in the morning? He’s gotta be warmed up before he faces that jackass Jefferson—“

His cheeks were flushed, possibly because Alexander had pulled him a little too close that time. Hercules hadn’t noticed things like that then.

He’s noticing now: the happy flush also tinting Alexander’s cheeks as they finally pull apart, the miles in John’s grin.

“Bring home that trophy for us!” John calls as Alexander starts down the street.

“They’re actually giving out certificates this time!” Alexander calls back.

“Bring home that certificate for us!”

Alexander disappears around the corner of the block. Hercules knows that John would probably walk him, if not for the fact that his first class starts in ten minutes.

“Okay, have to go!” John is pivoting the moment Alexander is out of his sight. “What time is it?” he yells as he darts up the stairs, two at a time.

“Fifteen ’til seven,” Hercules answers, but by that time John is gone anyway.

“Can I go back to sleep now,” Lafayette says, not really asking, so Hercules doesn’t really answer. 

They’re halfway up the stairs when a voice comes from two windows above: “Guys, I think I accidentally shoved one of my papers in Alex’s bag?”

“Serves him right,” Lafayette mutters darkly and lets the door swing shut behind them.

 

  

iii.

Two days later sees him accompanying Alexander on their way to Lafayette’s apartment when Alexander tugs him into _200 Degrees_ , the campus coffee shop. It’s fairly packed, but the line is short, and Alexander doesn’t let the change of setting disrupt the flow of his tirade 

“—then he has the _gall_ to start providing excuses for slavery, which, I didn’t even know was something that people actually, genuinely _did_ anymore, was I naive to think that? And you’d think this would finally be something that Burr actually spoke up about, but no, the guy just _stands_ there listening to this speech coming out of Jefferson’s ass — two cups of coffee, one black with half a packet of Splenda, one with milk and sugar, please, thank you — and honestly, I don’t know how John can stand to live in the same room as him, can you? By the way, how was he this morning? Did he look like he was falling asleep to you? I texted him and told him I’d bring coffee, but I’ve been afraid that I’d be too late and our John has actually passed out in the shower— Oh, thank you!”

_Our John_ , Hercules thinks. He feels, vaguely, that he should have a notepad to write all of this down. 

Alexander fumbles through paying, drops the change in the tip jar, picks up the two Styrofoam cups, and continues along.

“I was bouncing ideas off of him last night, and before I knew it, it was already three AM, and I, like the idiot I am, completely forgot that John had an early class this morning and John, like the idiot _he_ is, failed to tell me that he had an early class this morning.”

“He does that,” Hercules comments, “so do you, and it’s unhealthy all around.” Lafayette should pay him for doing their job.

“Yes,” Alexander sighs, which sounds a little non sequitur. “Anyway, could you call him to make sure he _isn’t_ dead?” 

“Nuh-uh, my phone’s at twelve percent and it still has to survive my next class,” Hercules huffs. “I’m not letting it die because you couldn’t wait five more minutes—“

“Use my phone, then,” Alexander insists. He stops so he can direct his bag pointedly at Hercules. A few pedestrians spare them odd looks, and Hercules completely blames it on Alexander, holding two coffee cups with comically cocked hips. “Front pocket. Password’s one-oh-two-eight.”

Hercules rummages through many loose notecards before finally fishing out the small, black device. “Now I can break into your phone and order pizza.”

“You can already do that from your own phone, you dolt,” says Alexander, but it’s affectionate. 

“Where’s Laurens in here?” 

“Ah.” Alexander bites his lip. “It would be easier to look him up by number—“

“You don’t just have him listed by name?” Hercules asks, nonplussed, but he’s thumbing through Alexander’s first few contacts and he answers his own question: There are no names, just long, caps-locked phrases such as ANGEL OF THE VERY HIGHEST ORDER and BRRAP BRRAP. 

Alexander laughs suddenly, awkward and forced. “No, it’s probably faster for me to tell you his number.”

Hercules doubts that until Alexander rattles off the number as if he’s rattling off the Preamble — which, for Alexander, is very fast. At the fourth digit, a suggested contact name pops up, and Hercules stares and stares and stares.

“You got it?” Alexander says.

“Yeah,” Hercules says without really hearing him.

Alexander starts walking again. Hercules presses the call button and catches up. “Laurens, you better not die and leave me with this ass.”

 

 

iv.

Two more days later sees him in the very same coffee shop but with John. This time, it’s packed _and_ the line is filled, which is just his luck because John apparently has much to get off his chest.

If Alexander personifies stored potential energy in the taut strings of vocal chords, then John personifies kinetic energy, twisting his hands together and rocking back and forth on his feet. His eyes look darker, wearier than usual, but he’s jittery. “I just,” he bumbles, “I _worry_ about him sometimes. No, not sometimes. A lot of times. He’s so passionate about what he does, and he knows I’d have his back to hell and below, but. _But_.” The hand-wringing stops as John bundles his fingers into tight fists, bringing them close to his face until he’s staring at his own knuckles cross-eyed. “But— _sleep!”_ He emphasizes this with a sudden flexing of his fingers. Hercules snorts when he accidentally flicks himself in the nose.

“It’s not funny,” John grouches. They’ve reached the front of the line now, at least, and John’s curls sway as he turns to the girl at the counter. “Large cup of coffee, please, just black.”

“Were you literally telling me all of that while you’re buying him a large cup of coffee,” Hercules says, blandly. "Also," he adds, because he  _was_ just buying coffee with Alexander two days ago, "didn't you forget the Splenda?"

"Half a packet," John says idly. "Black coffee kills bacteria on our teeth, did you know? Less chances of getting cavities, but that only works if you don't put sugar in, so. Alex never notices. You want anything?"

Hercules decides to digest this information with a, “Nah, I’m good.”

They pick up the coffee and make their way out of the shop. They’re headed to Alexander and Hercules’s dorm this time, because Alexander hasn’t come out of the room for two days straight. Later, when Hercules will look back on this moment in retrospect, he may realize it might have been a good time to bring up how often Alexander groans about John's freckles or blows kisses to turtles with a proclamation of, "For John Laurens." Hercules isn't sure why, but it just feels appropriate. 

“I get it, studying’s important,” John is saying to the air. “But I love him, and what if he, like, dies because he doesn’t sleep enough?”

Maybe John’s been a little sleep-deprived too, because he doesn’t seem aware of a very significant word that has just left his mouth. 

They pass by a tree, and Hercules successfully resists slamming his head against it.

 

 

v.

“Trust me,” Hercules tells Lafayette, firmly but quietly so that the couple underneath the window doesn’t hear them, “this is the right thing to do.”

They have wedged Lafayette’s bed against the window so they can lie comfortably on their stomachs and listen to the conversation taking place below.

“I have no qualms about the morality of this plan, but I _am_ concerned about the sharpness of this rose,” Lafayette returns levelly. They poke at the end of the plastic flower, making a face. “What if it kills one of them before they profess their love for each other?”

“It wouldn’t matter because their love is _undying._ ” Hercules plucks the rose out of Lafayette’s fingers with exaggerated delicacy. “Did that just come out of my mouth?” he says as Lafayette snickers into his arm. “Shut up.”

“All right, all right, I think they are starting.”

Below, John is standing in front of Alexander, hands clasped nervously behind his back. “So, um, the aquarium announced this new exhibit a few days ago and I’ve been wanting to see it?”

“He’s supposed to be asking Alexander, not himself!” Lafayette hisses. 

“Oh, really!” Alexander says. His voice kicks up a little, the way it does when he’s nervous, so he’s really not doing any better than John. “Well, it’s a good thing that I did all of next week’s homework already, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” If Hercules squints hard enough, he can make out the adoring smile on John’s face. “So would you wanna…?”

“Of course!” Alexander says — too quickly? He seems to ask himself this question as he hurries to backtrack, “Should we, ah, run back up and ask Laf and—“

“Ugh,” Hercules says.

“I was actually thinking of, um, going alone?” John tries. He stops. “Alone, like, the two of us maybe, not alone _by myself_ , obviously, or —“

“—or you wouldn’t have asked me—“

“—I wouldn’t have asked you, yeah, so.” John breaks his fidgeting to push his curls away from his face. “Would you. Want to go with me? Oh, you already said yes, didn’t you—“

“Yes!” Alexander’s smiling too, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. “It’s a date, John Laurens.”

Both of them freeze — Hercules’s heart seems to freeze as well. Lafayette makes a low whistling noise.

John’s face breaks into the widest, brightest grin, and he rocks forward on his toes and says happily, “ _You_ said it, for the record.”

“I hardly need to _say_ the word if it applies to every time we do something alone together.” Alexander’s eyebrows furrow briefly at the oxymoron. “Though I’m slightly disappointed that I didn’t think of taking you to the aquarium sooner."

And just like that, the awkwardness is diffused and they fit together, Alexander slinging an arm over John’s shoulders like it's the most natural thing to do, and Hercules feels like he’s missing something again.

“I forgive you,” John says, all dimples.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Hercules hears Alexander insist. “Make it the best date ever—“

“—why, Alexander, every date with you is the best date ever—“

“—seriously, you can point at all your favorite fish and then I’ll— I’ll jump in and fight them to win your affections—“

“—you already _have_ them—“

“ _Mon dieu_ ,” Lafayette mutters.

“The rose, the rose!” Hercules whispers, watching the pair walk further down the sidewalk.

“Give it to me!” Lafayette snatches the rose back, pushes themselves up on their elbows, and throws it out of the window. “Duck!” they hiss immediately afterwards, and Hercules buries his face into a pillow, trying to flatten himself into the bed.

“Did they get it?” he asks into the pillow.

“See, John,” comes his answer from below. “Even the heavens approve of our union.”

Alexander’s voice sounds _far_ too gleeful.

“ ‘Suppose they did,” Lafayette says, equally muffled into another pillow.

“Don’t wait up for me, Mulligan!” Alexander shouts.

Hercules groans into raspberry-smelling cotton.

 

 

vi.

Hercules likes to think himself a good friend, which is why he is making a trek across campus to the library at two-thirty AM with Alexander’s phone. Hercules likes to think himself a good friend, which is why he tells himself that he’s bringing Alexander’s phone because he cares very deeply about being able to contact him, not because the John’s incessant calling was preventing him from the vital human process known as _sleeping._  

He had forgotten Alexander’s password, so he had texted John himself, telling him where Alexander was. John, however, must not have understood the part where Alexander left his phone in his dorm and that when he called literally every seven minutes, Hercules was viciously uprooted from sleep. The calling eventually stopped, but John stopped replying to him too, which made Hercules unnecessarily worried about where he had gone to find Alexander, to the point where he finally figured that giving Alexander his phone would solve his problems.

This is what Hercules intended to do: Slam open the library doors, shout, “If there’s a worst time to forget your phone, it’s when you finally have a boyfriend!”, heave it across the room, watch it magically fall into Alexander’s lap, then leave, then sleep. 

This is what Hercules finds: Alexander and John, the former sitting at a desk and bent over his laptop, the latter asleep on a beanbag chair that he has apparently dragged over by Alexander’s legs. Alexander and John, John and Alexander, the linked outlines of them illuminated by the gentle glow of Alexander’s laptop.

He feels suddenly like an intruder, which is why he turns to leave. But when he lets go of the door knob, it clicks back into place, and the sound startles Alexander inside.

Hercules would have ducked into hiding if Alexander didn’t turn to the opposite direction. Hercules _should_ have left while he knew he was safe, but then Alexander’s gaze is moving downwards, to John curled up by his side, then to his laptop again. 

He watches Alexander slowly rise from his chair and kneel by John’s frame, reaching for something. He eases a book from John’s arms, and there is enough light from the laptop to illuminate the soft adoration that has settled over his features. His mouth moves around a single syllable — _John,_ Hercules imagines — and he’s running a hand through the other boy’s hair, gentle.

He watches John’s eyes slowly flutter open, imagines the confused hum that must tumble from his lips, only for that confusion to vanish when he recognizes Alexander. He smiles, sleepy but equally as adoring.

Alexander smiles in return and kisses his forehead.

Hercules hears none of this but for the first time he understands it, capital-K-knows it.

This is why he finally turns and leaves, willing his footsteps to be as quiet as possible. It’s not until he’s outside that he realizes he’s still holding Alexander’s phone. He opens the screen, reads the long list of notifications, eyes catching on the most prominent bar — “twenty-seven missed calls from _dearest_ ” — and decides it can wait until morning.

**Author's Note:**

> EEEEEEEE
> 
> 1) title is from the fray's "over my head" which is actually kind of a sad song but the lyric fits very nicely here  
> 2) they were watching & quoting x-men: days of future past. i feel like laf would wholly get fassbender's cheekbones, y'know?  
> 3) “Human happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected" was said by your one and only gwashington!! wild  
> 4) one-oh-two-eight is v significant even though hercules doesn't get it oops. alex should probably be less unsubtle about his passwords tho ///edit I GOOFED, i had 0828 originally for john's birthday but placidsloth helpfully pointed out that i should have 1028 instead. sorry sorry !!  
> 5) [black coffee = good for teeth???? u decide](http://www.caffeineinformer.com/7-good-reasons-to-drink-coffee)  
> 6) alex [blowing a kiss to turtles for john](http://hamilton-lyrics.tumblr.com/post/137088615864/fiddlydigitss-blows-a-kiss-to-the-turtles-for) & [alex fighting sea animals for john's affections](http://inredamancy.tumblr.com/post/140984299205/cute-date-idea). can u believe the latter is what 100% inspired this fic  
> 7) im inredamancy on tumblr come scream with me or @ me


End file.
